Chapter Nineteen #3
Eleanor kept a firm grip on Han’s arm as she pushed and shoved them towards the shops.
They needed to get inside. The wind wasn’t that strong.
Not like the winds she knew strong Air witches could wield, gusts with the strength to rip through buildings.
But it was still strong, stronger than it should have been, considering magic wasn’t supposed to exist anymore.
Doors slammed and shutters rattled into place amidst the cries of the fleeing people.
The shop owners who hadn’t already locked their shops were doing so now.
Something had changed. There was something behind them, making the shopkeepers lock themselves indoors.
To avoid being separated from Han and Haesel, she dared not look back, whatever it was.
Eleanor slammed her body against a turquoise-coloured door that was closing and pushed the person back with all the force she could manage, shouldering her way into the shop. The shop owner stumbled back exclaiming, “We’re closed!”
The doorbell’s angry tinkle followed Han, as she slammed and locked the door. Then she dragged a chair in front of the door, wedging it in place.
“We need shelter,” Eleanor growled at the barrel-chested man, trying her best to ignore just how large the man before her was.
“We’re closed!” he repeated, putting his hands on his wide hips.
“You see what’s going on out there!” Eleanor said, pointing a finger at his window, from where he’d been watching what had been going on outside.
“Harald, you let them in,” a voice admonished.
“I don’t think they’re going to rob us with a child.
” The woman of short stature spoke as she came around the serving shop counter.
Her blonde hair was so pale that the silver hair pins were almost invisible until they caught the overhead candlelight, and they shined radiantly.
The woman’s face became as bright as her hair when she laid her eyes on Haesel.
“You never know, Mags.”
Even though Eleanor had to raise her chin, she narrowed her eyes at Harald. He wanted to throw them out of his shop with the threat outside. Her fingers flexed over her hidden blades. He could try.
Before Eleanor had decided on how best to remove this man as he was clearly the problem, Haesel started crying. The shock of what had happened outside had caught up to her. At the sound of her wails and sniffles, Harald’s demeanour softened, and he dropped his hands with a sigh.
“Aww, you poor dear,” Mags cooed, while Han murmured soft words to Haesel. Eleanor couldn’t help admitting that the little girl’s timing was perfect. “Don’t worry, love, you don’t have to go out there, you’re safe in here. You had a scare, that’s all. You’ll be right as rain in no time.”
Eleanor froze at the woman’s words. She could see Han’s lips moving to continue comforting Haesel, but Eleanor only heard the screams from outside that hadn’t died down. If anything, they’d become louder.
Harald knocked into her as he moved to the window. It jarred her against the wooden counter and the calm composure she’d been carefully maintaining frayed at the edges, letting panic seep along her spine.
Harald smacked the internal shutters closed, muttering to himself, and Eleanor jumped.
She heard screams, but these differed from the panicked shouts outside. It was the screams of death.
No. Not there. Not that place.
Blood.
Fire.
Steel clashing against steel.
It was so potent she swore she could taste the very metal in the air.
The unnatural colour of red mud was so thick that she couldn’t see the outline of her boots.
She ran her hands over her concealed weapons and took as large a breath as she could. Mags was speaking, responding to something Han had said, but Eleanor couldn’t hear what she was saying. Her blood was pounding louder and louder in her ears.
An older patient woman’s voice whispered in her ear.
What do you feel? Wood. The wood was polished and smooth.
What do you hear? Voices.
“…you know what I mean?”
What do you see? Haesel sniffling and smiling as Han smiled and nodded at whatever conversation she was having with Mags, the shop owner.
Eleanor took a deep breath and realised that Mags had directed the question at her. She nodded, clueless about the woman’s words, but Mags’s smile suggested she had responded appropriately.
Eleanor still needed to get away from here as soon as possible. She swallowed. “Is there a back way out of here?”
“Oh love, you can’t go back out there.”
Han’s knuckles turned white as she gripped Haesel. “No, Eleanor’s right, we should be getting home. My…my sister’s alone and ill. She can’t have us gone for the night.”
“The back way’s best, Mags,” Harald grunted from his spot, peering through the shutters.
Eleanor almost joined him, curious as to why they shouldn’t be going out the front, but she shamefully admitted that not knowing might be best for her right now.
“Well, if you’re sure. It’s this way,” Mags said as she slipped through a gap between a standing candelabra and a pile of travel trunks, her blonde hair disappearing from sight.
Then Eleanor realised the type of shop she’d barged into.
It was a second-hand-odds shop, bursting with all manner of items. Glass shelves filled the wall behind the long wooden serving counter.
There were different sized cabinets, tables, padded stools, armchairs, and desks, which all held random items. The objects were so numerous; it made the dull ache at the back of her head return.
Her eyes couldn’t rest on one item long enough before another item caught her eye.
No wonder Harald bumped into her. There was hardly any room to move except for a narrow path through the shop, revealing a sliver of wood flooring.
“Are you coming or staying?” Mags’ voice called to them from somewhere behind the pile of travelling trunks, their gold scrolling lettering mostly etched off.
Eleanor went first while Han followed, clutching Haesel, whose wide eyes were looking at everything she could.
“I’d keep your doors locked,” Eleanor advised.
“Oh, don’t you worry, love. This isn’t the first time there’s been some overreaction on market day. Doors are all bolted, and you saw the shutters. We’ll have a nice quiet evening to ourselves and be in bed early,” Mags said.
Mags led them down the hallway that was as heavily packed as the shop front. Heavy footsteps followed them as Harald followed behind. Eleanor didn’t blame him wanting to keep Mags safe from strangers. Whoever they were to each other he clearly cared for her.
“Where does this come out?” Eleanor asked, already trying to plot their route away from here.
“Go right and follow the drangway to the courtyard and there’s a narrow drangway in the corner. It’ll let you out a few streets away.”
“Drangway?” Han asked.
“Alley,” Eleanor explained.
Mags’s kindly face beamed. “Ah, are you from Attarice?”
Her stomach flipped at the familiar place name but sunk almost immediately as she remembered why she’d left and hadn’t tried to return. “No, I’ve just spent some time there.”
“Oh well,” Mags sighed and looked a little deflated at Eleanor’s answer. Eleanor felt the unease of familiarity in her chest. She understood the ache of missing a land and the craving for shared experiences that could only come from one’s native home.
Harald cleared his throat as he moved around them to peer out the small, shuttered side window.
Mags’ kind smile lingered on Haesel. “You sure you don’t want to stay? I’m not sure how far the panic will have spread.”
“Thank you for the offer, but we really do need to go home,” Han answered.
“Mama needs us,” Haesel said in a determined voice with the smallest of sniffles. “And I have my sword,” she said, gripping her knitting needle in her hand.
Han sighed. “Sellie…”
“I know. Stay down and stay quiet.”
Haesel’s begrudging tone made Eleanor smile. It meant that Han had already laid down the law with Haesel and the little girl wasn’t happy about it.
“But just in case, it’s good to know you have a sword,” Eleanor said to Haesel, who beamed at being included even it was in a small way.
“Best be off with you then,” Mags said as she unlocked the many bolts, using a small step for the locks out of her reach.
“At least the winds have stopped,” Han remarked.
They could still hear screams from the market square, but it was from those who’d witnessed death. The alley’s stillness made Eleanor pause on the threshold, but the need to get away from whoever or whatever was in the Cloth was stronger than her hesitation.
“Hope you get home safely,” Mags said. The brightness in her voice had dimmed, and she sounded as if she would offer them something she couldn’t.
“Thank you,” Eleanor said. “It was a kindness that you let us have shelter. It won’t be forgotten.”
Han and Haesel murmured their thanks as they followed Eleanor into the empty alleyway. Before the door closed behind them, Harald grunted. “Be safe.”
When Eleanor deposited Han and Haesel on the other side of the Exchange, they could no longer hear the screams. Eleanor had wanted to walk them to their front door, but Han had insisted that she got herself home.
Before they’d departed ways, Eleanor had slipped the yellow gemstone that she’d pilfered from the lord at the party palace into Haesel’s knitting bag.
It would sufficiently compensate them for losing their wheel and business for the day.
Their little family would find a more beneficial use for it than she would.
That part of Eleanor that’d encouraged her to search for the necklace only grew and was urging her to return to the Cloth or at least try the Flea.
Though her search was incomplete, a nagging sense of unease, a whisper of doubt, clouded her judgment.
Were the masses of people still there, or were the city guards swarming the place?
And…witches, or what people thought were witches.
But she was faltering in convincing herself that what she’d felt wasn’t magic.
It’d felt like Air, but if they were witches and they…
no , they weren’t witches, they couldn’t be. Magic wasn’t supposed to exist anymore.
Either way, the Cloth was closed.
The sun dipped in the sky, casting long shadows, while distant bells tolled in the late afternoon, signalling to Eleanor that she wouldn’t have time to go to the Flea. Dusk was coming.
She rubbed her face in a meagre attempt to lessen the dull ache in her head and turned towards The Ladies Grace. She just wanted to be left alone, to forget what she had saw and felt at the Cloth.